The Great Gatsby Review

The Great Gatsby is a 2013 film directed by Baz Luhrmann. It stars Leonardo DiCaprio as Gatsby, the titular character whose extravagant parties are infamous on the coast of New York. When Nick Carraway (Toby McGuire), a bond-seller moves into the house next door, he is invited to one of Gatsby's Notorious parties, and with that a life of hedonism and hangovers. McGuire plays his usual character - a watery-eyed tagalong whose role is mostly passive. He's on a ride and has little control over what's going on, often mediating between other characters - Tom and Daisy, Daisy and Gatsby, Tom and Gatsby.

Nick serves as a narrator, and the film is bookended by his visits to a Psychologist, a device absent from the source book. This is used to justify the first person narration, and is fairly unnoticeable, apart from one moment when his psychologist tells him in so many words that it would be cathartic to write down his experiences in a book. Guess what he calls it.
So much like The Shawshank Redemption's Red, you have this secondary character always looking up to this larger than life figure, telling you his version of the story. You get to experience the parties and decadence for the first time, with your own guide, and you feel like you're walking into something from an outside perspective. Much like Nick you are 'within and without', sucked in to the film by its glamorous style

Leo's performance is excellent in this film, and it’s hard to imagine any other living actor in the role. He has a smoothness and intensity Gatsby requires, and is the appropriate age. The character is both notoriously charming, and has a dark history and intensity that Leo pulls of in so many roles; The Departed (seething and sexy), Catch Me If You Can (charming and vulnerable) and Django Unchained (charming and creepy)

One of the elements of the film I am required to focus on is performance.
Jay Gatsby is not a man, but rather a character moulded in the imagination of a poor ambitious child. The character, born into poverty learned to be a gentleman, and I like everyone else am convinced by his charm. He is smooth and composed, and generous with his wealth and affection, and it doesn’t really matter that he wasn’t always rich.
The ‘flower scene’, a pivotal moment in the movie in which the two ill-fated lovers are reunited after five years of longing, exposes Gatsby’s vulnerability for the first time, and Leo’s performance subtly convinced me that this almost mythological character is human. Gatsby is nervously awaiting Daisy’s arrival. She is late, and he obviously flustered; like a lizard his stillness is interrupted by jerky movements, a hand flies into his pocket, he runs his hands through his hair, and he plays with his cane. Although his posture never suggests insecurity (perhaps a learned military behaviour) his face betrays him. His furrowed brow suggests extreme concentration, and his effortless charm no longer comes so easily to him. He makes an effort to look at ease, with his thumb poking out of his pocket ( a classic sign of confidence, the thumb literally pointing towards his genitals) and his bent leg (allowing him to ‘casually’ lean on his cane). This all emphasises his love of Daisy and her effect on him; she is the only person who can break the Gatsby charm.

As well as an exciting and visceral style, the performances cement this as one of Luhrmann’s best. Strictly Ballroom will always be my favourite (partly for sentimental reasons; I saw it when I was very young), but this is a close second.

Moonrise Kingdom Review (Concerning Style)

Moonrise Kingdom is an indie/romance/comedy directed by Wes Anderson. It stars Jared Gilman as Sam, a twelve year old bespectacled skinny orphan boy, in love with Kara Hayward’s troubled Suzy, a similarly quirky and 'disturbed' teen.

You know what you're getting with Wes; beautiful set design, dry and amusing dialogue, Jason Schwartzman, tracking shots and slow motion. He’s worked out a formula and fair play to him, because his films are constantly great. Ever since Bottle Rocket Anderson has made a name for himself as a quirky auteur, known for his meticulous set design, central framing of characters and long, intricate tracking shots of doll’s house style interiors.

So Moonrise Kingdom is no break from the formula. Lightly tainted with nostalgic sepia, it's warm, dry and funny. On a small Island off the New England coast, two 'disturbed' 12 year olds find solace in each other, and decide to make a life together when they run away, pursued by scouts, dysfunctional parents, man-boy scout leader Ed Norton, and one of the most sympathetic Bruce Willises (a kind of dumb but humble cop) you're likely to see.

As well as style, Anderson's films concern similar themes; they’re all about family in some way, (The Royal Tenenbaums is the most literal example, while The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou’s family is the crew of a boat) and fathers in particular. Moonrise Kingdom is rife with dads, despite Sam being an orphan. You've got sad, old Bill Murray (is he anything else these days?) as Suzy’s dad, as well as Willis and Norton playing the dad role. Ed Norton's Scoutmaster Ward is the most likely father figure in this. He's constantly smoking, reading his scouting magazine, and seems to take pride in being a positive role model above all else. He is responsibility encapsulate, and he speaks with equal authority and caring. Bruce Willis's Captain Sharp is a less of a father figure, and despite admitting to being dumb in so many words has a certain earnest wisdom about him.

So the kids escape to the island’s wilderness, surviving on Sam’s (Jared Gilman) impressive scout skills. They traverse rivers and rocks, stab a dog to death, and make various picturesque camps around the island. Their conversations are (in typical Anderson style) somewhat unnatural, especially for children, and they talk in a very matter of fact way, with little expression.

 Oh, and it’s the sixties. It has to be set in the sixties for much of the film to work; smoking scout masters, 12 year olds riding motorbikes and a profound misunderstanding of child psychology on the parents’ part feature heavily. But the sixties comes with certain imagery, more specifically colour palette, and a lot of plastic. Much of the film looks like a 60s children’s’ book, the pastel colours, the organised and simple interiors, and the postcard style picture perfect landscapes.

Colour is used to great effect, and at some points in the film characters seem to have their own colour. In one scene where Suzy and Sam first pitch a tent, as the camera switches between close ups between the characters, and you see Suzy’s world as yellow from Sam’s point of view, and Sam’s as blue from hers. The colour also serves to demonstrate one of the themes of the film; the end of childhood and innocence. The film seems to take place in the autumn, analogous with the end of the innocent, bright haze of childhood, and the beginning of responsibility, and the film uses lots of autumnal colours; yellows oranges and browns.

As the film goes on and the storm begins the use of blue is more prominent, and at the films climax where the leads are hanging off a church tower, the style is somewhat reminiscent of a silent era movie, with very little saturation, only shades of dark blue being made out.

The film is prettier than it is anything else, lacking in belly laughs, though constantly amusing. The main joy of the film is watching it, and an album of stills from the movie would produce almost as much pleasure as sitting through it. There are few surprises in this if you're an Anderson fan (apart from, disappointingly, less pop music and slow motion than I expected), but if you enjoy his films, this won’t disappoint.

Safety Not Guaranteed Review

Safety Not Guaranteed is a 2013 indie romance sci-fi directed by Colin Treverrow. It's very much a hipster movie, with eye rolling, Star Wars references and awkwardness abound, and although there are sci-fi elements, the film is more of a romantic mystery. The time travel element is disappointingly misleading, and you don't even get to see the time machine until the last few minutes of the film. It's no Back to the Future, and none of the fun that comes with time travel (making mistakes, going back to correct them, disrupting the space-time continuum etc.) really features here. The real puzzle of the film is 'Is one of the protagonists crazy?', and depending on how you interpret the ending it's not really resolved. The ending is one element of the film which does work though; ambiguous endings are always fun, and although it could be argued it's a lazy way of making a film seem smart (e.g. Inception), it is fun to argue about how you think a film ended.

 So Aubrey Plaza’s Darius, an intelligent, pessimistic intern (ostensibly a saner version of her character in Parks and Recreation), joins Jake Johnson’s seemingly misogynistic Jeff, and an Indian Michael Cera (Karan Soni’s Arnau) to investigate a mysterious advert for a partner to travel in time. After tracking the author (Mark Duplass’ time-travel-physics-man-child-weirdo Kenneth) down they spy on him, Darius falls in love, and they question his sanity throughout the film. As Darius and Kenneth fall in love, Jeff revisits an old flame, and tries to recapture his youth by proxy by convincing Arnau to pull some conveniently placed holiday totty. These secondary characters’ stories are much more interesting to me than the conventional ‘two weirdoes find solace in each other’ cliché, and although Plaza is effortlessly likable and watchable I knew exactly how their relationship would play out (he would find out her ulterior motive, and ultimately forgive her because of course, they need each other). This is a problem; the subplots are more interesting than the plot, and the scenes in which Jeff falls for Liz ring much truer, and have much more heartache than the two leads' 'falling in love scenes' (in which Kenneth sings Darius one of his own songs while playing the zither next to a campfire).

I would love to go on holiday with Aubrey Plaza, Jake Johnson and Karan Soni.  Apart from that, Safety Not Guaranteed isn’t perfect. The sci-fi story is messy and confused, and Kenneth, whose sanity is constantly questioned, is so kooky it doesn’t make any difference whether or not he’s crazy. This is a theme of the film however; what is normal, what makes someone weird, and on what aspects of personality do we judge people? The film handles this very well, and I did gain a certain amount of sympathy for characters that at first seem unlikable. Jeff for example first appears a sleazy jock, constantly womanising and only out for himself. Later on we learn he is trying to recapture his past, a time in his life when he actually cared for someone, and his appreciation of this above all else did created more empathy than I had with Darius or Kenneth.

All the characters in this film seem to have something missing; the two leads’ dead loved ones, Jeff’s desire to really love someone and Arnua’s inability to engage with the outside world and take control of his life. As far as the supporting cast goes I wanted the character to fulfil their desires and in this sense the film worked. It's just a shame I didn't share this with the main characters.